The African Adventure
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: There was this girl in Africa, see … (in several chapters)
1. Chapter 1

It was a long drive through pot-holed flooded roads. The tyres frequently skidded on the mud and crashed into holes. It was a route Bodie had taken many times before. The hot African sun burned the back of his head. He had a Kalashnikov across his knees and a gunner in the rear seat watching his back, his eyes peeled for the raiders who were always skulking in the bushes waiting in ambush. Bodie had insisted that, if they couldn't vary their route - there was only one road in this godforsaken place - they could at least vary their timing from the pickup point to try not to be a sitting target. So sometimes they'd leave the airstrip in the early hours of the morning, sometimes nearer noon, and set off with vital supplies for Unhura Hospital a 4-hour drive away. The chat with the crew at the airfield was a relaxing interlude but, once in the jeep, Bodie was on full alert as was his mate in the back. This bloke, Lucky, was quite new. That last one, Providence, had copped it during an ambush that Bodie was fortunate to have escaped from - and with the supplies in tact, too. As he neared his destination, his heart grew lighter. The nuns and 'civilians' were always glad to see them, whatever time they turned up. The months had turned to over a year now. Bodie couldn't believe how much time had passed and how many miles he must have covered providing much needed food and medical supplies to this little hospital. He accepted their hospitality and sometimes stayed over.

This latest run was an early morning pickup. Half way along their route to the hospital, Bodie noticed a sudden movement in the bush. He was skilled enough to know the difference between man and beast. Something was lobbed towards them. "Grenade!" Bodie screamed as he slammed the jeep to a halt and threw himself out of the vehicle. He hit the ground hard, still clutching his rifle. He rolled and aimed towards the thrower. The ground exploded on the other side of the road. Rocks and dust were hurled in all directions. Bodie kept his head down, protecting his eyes from the worse of it. He recovered at about the same time as the opposition. Then he heard the slap, slap of their sandals rapidly running towards the jeep and the precious supplies. "No you don't," Bodie thought angrily to himself and curled round towards the sound. He saw them through the haze of dust and let rip with his rifle. Three bodies soon lay on the road as Bodie risked raising himself off the ground. He looked round for Lucky, but he was nowhere to be seen. He called out for him, and looked under the jeep and in the ditch on the other side of the road. It was unfortunate that the bodyguard had chosen that side of the road to leap towards when the jeep came to its unexpected stop. Bodie shook his head sadly at the body parts. There was nothing he could do but get back on the road. He revved the jeep and was pleased that it started first time. He felt very vulnerable as he covered the last miles on his own.

The hospital was unusually quiet. There was some sign of life around the canteen buildings, and a sweeper was busy at his endless task of keeping the worst of the dust from inside and out. Bodie, as usual, unpacked as much as he could carry from the vehicle and headed for the main reception area, being careful not to trip up the verandah steps. He called out and was surprised that no-one answered. They usually heard his jeep well before he arrived, however early it was. Bodie laid the goods on the counter and went into the nearest office where most of the admin was done. He saw a woman lying on the floor covered in blood and flies. Bodie's first thought was that there had been an ambush, a massacre. He went cold at the thought. The coldness turned to a hot anger. He knew these people; they had somehow become friends - though Bodie shunned close contact. He approached the body and knelt down, waving the flies away. As he reached for her pulse just below the jaw, his eyes were raking the immediate area for clues. He saw a knife nearby and slits on the girl's wrists. Bodie began to re-evaluate. He turned her on her back and she moaned softly. Still alive then. Bodie let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. There were no other injuries on her. This was no massacre; this was self-inflicted. He knew the woman, Clair (he hadn't wanted to encourage her by asking for a surname). She was his main and first contact at the hospital. They passed the time of day and she was rather flirty with him. Although he was flattered, Clair wasn't his type. He sensed that she was a needy person and if he made a move towards her she'd cling like a limpet. No. Bodie liked his affairs free and flowing; ones he could easily walk away from.

He rapidly tore open the bandages he had brought as part of the supplies and applied them tightly to both wrists. He laid her in the recovery position and ran for help. He headed for the nearest ward and bumped into a sister - both of the medical and religious variety.

"Clair," he said breathlessly. He didn't need to say more.

Sister Monica turned Bodie around and allowed him to lead her. In a moment they were both by Clair's side.

"You've been taking first aid lessons," she admonished, though a smile played around her lips. She was trying to make Bodie feel a little better about this. "Get a stretcher. There's one in the supply room opposite …"

"I know where it is," Bodie replied already on the move.

Between them they lifted the light body onto the stretcher and headed for a ward. Soon a doctor arrived and curtains were drawn around the bed as Clair was attended to. A bewildered Bodie was escorted to Matron's office. They passed the admin block and Bodie saw that, already, Clair's blood was being mopped up.

"Now, Bodie," Matron started off. "Sit down and have a cup of tea."

She offered him the strong, sweet black brew that was endemic in these parts. Her broad shoulders filled out the nun's outfit and made her look very manly and stern. Matron, Mother Superior, call her what you will, she would be obeyed.

"What the hell - sorry Matron - happened?"

The elderly nun smiled gently. "You haven't a clue have you, dear."

Bodie's bewilderment turned to anger. She saw this flash across his beautiful eyes.

"Clair was infatuated with you. She lived for your visits. On the days, or even weeks, when you couldn't come, she'd be like a love-lorn teenager. We'd have to poke her several times a day to get her to focus on her work. It's fortunate that we put her in admin - she was less likely to kill patients that way!"

"I never knew."

But some part of Bodie suspected that what Matron had said was all too true. That's why he backed away from Clair. He saw the passion in her eyes and knew he'd never be free of her if he responded to her desperation. He was the drug she could never have. He understood her need. He'd been close to that himself. His first exciting forays into Africa had brought him into Angel's orbit. She was the most beautiful, exotic woman Bodie had ever met. He was intoxicated by her. His very skin felt alive. She enjoyed the power she held over him. She also made a play for the head of the small mercenary unit that Bodie had attached himself to. She enjoyed the power game of pitting Krevas and Bodie against each other. What fun she had at their expense. Then things got serious - deadly serious. Krevas didn't share. When she emerged from the hut she and Bodie were sharing that evening, Krevas was waiting for her. Bodie heard a large bang - bigger than a pistol shot - a rifle of some kind. The only person with a rifle of that calibre was … God, no. He rushed out of the hut and found what was left of Angel spread out in the dirt. He looked from her body to Krevas. He stood with the rifle in his hands, legs wide, a broad grin on his face. He slowly aimed the gun at Bodie, who refused to move. Krevas lowered the gun and disappeared into the night, leaving Bodie with his dreams shattered. There was nothing he could do now but walk - and keep on walking.


	2. Chapter 2

Matron saw emotions racing across his handsome face. She brought him back to the here and now. "Oh, I think you knew more than you wanted to believe, Bodie. Some women here - particularly those not of the faith - become very lonely, and loneliness has many manifestations. Don't blame yourself over this, young man. We were as much to blame as you - more so. We saw her every day. We knew her moods and her depressions. We should have sent her back to her people in England. We are always short-handed as you know, but it's a poor excuse."

Bodie hadn't been in the habit of blaming himself for anything and he couldn't be responsible for Clair's fantasies, but he found his heart very heavy even so.

"Where's Lucky?" Matron asked suddenly.

Bodie's mind had been focused on the bloody scene in the admin block and was unprepared for the question. "Oh, we met opposition on the road."

"Dead?"

"Very."

"Are you injured?"

"No. I'm always alright." The statement was laden with sadness.

Matron made her decision. "I know we're shorthanded, Bodie, but I think you should take a break, too. Go back to …"

"No," Bodie said firmly. "There's nothing for me there and, besides, I don't take a runner just because the news is bad."

Matron would have to find other ways. Clair would be shipped off back to Blighty as soon as she was strong enough and that would get her out of Bodie's hair. But of the man himself … Mother Superior knew that the young man here in her office was at heart a decent man. Oh, she knew some of his mercenary background. That was where they found him. He'd somehow escaped from a Congo jail (Bodie heavily suspected that Krevas had been behind his capture) and was on the run. Sick and injured, he'd stumbled into a village recently ravaged by the men Bodie had been helping to eradicate. There was nothing left for him there, except danger. It would be the first place his captors would look. So he pressed on through the jungle and came across a group of tribesmen on a hunt. He was too exhausted to fight them off if they decided to attack. He leaned against the nearest tree and let fate take its turn. There was a lot of babbling amongst them that Bodie couldn't understand and some of them turned back into the bush. Two men remained carrying spears. In other circumstances he could have taken them on, but just now he couldn't be bothered and they didn't seem to pose a threat. After a while three men arrived including an elder. They gestured for Bodie to go with them. He sighed and followed. At a clearing he found a few meagre huts - and a priest. Even in his exhausted state, Bodie raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Let's look at you, my friend."

"No friend you," Bodie snarled. He didn't like assumptions.

The priest assessed that Bodie had been in a bad place for a while and still angry about it. The priest, Father Joseph, fell back on practicalities and tended to the worst of Bodie's injuries. He didn't press for details. The deep bruises and chafed, infected skin around the wrists told the priest where his 'patient' had been very recently. The emaciated, haunted look confirmed his suspicions. Father Joseph too had been in a Congo jail, but only for a few days. Then they gave him a choice: get out or stay in hell. He didn't need telling twice. They dumped him on the road somewhere and just left him there to fend for himself. This village had taken him in and tended to his wounds. He made a half-hearted effort to convert them to his form of Christianity but, from what he'd witnessed in the jail and without, his heart was no longer in it. He knew a little of the tribe's language and understood that a few of their number had gone to get help to relieve him. It was a long time coming and it was obvious that this man who'd stumbled out of the jungle wasn't the cavalry.

Bodie endured the medical administrations. It was clear that this priest had had no medical training and in any case had little in the way of supplies. He was surprised that the priest had anything practical to hand at all. On enquiring, Joseph told him that a mobile health team came by every now and then. They hadn't been yet whilst he'd been in residence but he was still hopeful that someone would come. Bodie didn't share his optimism. The team may have been ambushed on their way here, or simply found this outpost too distant and too dangerous to deal with any more. Bodie felt overwhelmingly tired. Had Joseph been a doctor, and had the right equipment, he would have diagnosed mental and physical exhaustion, blood poisoning, low grade fever (possibly dengue) and anaemia. All he knew was that his 'patient' needed peace and quiet. A bed in one of the larger huts was made available to him, and after a scant meal of gruel Bodie gratefully lay down on the pile of leaves and straw.


	3. Chapter 3

It was nearly noon next day before he regained his senses. At first he thought he was back in the stinking hell of the jail and was relieved, when his eyes grew accustomed to the half light in the hut, that he was safe - for now at least. The priest, meanwhile, had been doing some thinking. He felt that the villagers could easily betray him for a few pieces of silver - or whatever currency passed in these parts - if they hadn't done so already. Perhaps there were people lying in wait for him nearby. He didn't want to walk into an ambush. His preaching had already landed him in hot water with the twitchy authorities and now, here he was, harbouring an escaped convict. Once Bodie had had a wash and another bowl of gruel Joseph said that the villagers would be happy to see him to safety. There was a settlement a day's rowing downstream.

"Aren't you coming, too?" Bodie asked. The priest's evasion had Bodie's antenna twitching. What was down river that Joseph was scared of? If there was a town that close, why hadn't the priest gone there already? Why did he want rid of Bodie; his only English-speaking 'companion'?

All these questions were unlikely to be answered by the priest, or understood by the villagers. Bodie just knew that he couldn't stay here. He was still too close to danger. So he reluctantly agreed to go with the tribesmen. After a few hours of bobbing along the quiet river, Bodie began to relax. He regained his old sense of wonder as he watched the monkeys cavort in the trees, and heard the scream of a squadron of violently coloured parrots overhead. Presently he saw some people by the riverside and they pulled in there. They seemed to know each other and gossip was exchanged. Bodie was largely ignored. They all wandered into the bush, and a village - larger than the last - was revealed. The women were very shy in front of this white, towering giant but gave him a meal. The fish was a welcome change from the filth of the jail and the gruel of the last village. He smiled his appreciation and the locals giggled shyly. After a while of endless chat they took their leave and pressed on. Eventually they drew in for the night many miles down river. Bodie was beginning to wonder if his boatmen really knew where they were going and at what point they were going to dump him. A posse of locals greeted them at the riverside and they moved inland through the night jungle to their destination. A meal was already provided as though they had been expected. Bodie was beginning to feel quite ill by now and reckoned it was dehydration. He dragged himself through dinner and was glad when he was shown his digs for the night. Again it was on a clean earth floor, but it was luxury compared to where he'd been for the past several months.

The next morning, Bodie found that he had difficulty raising himself off the ground. It was as though a great weight was bearing down on him; his head felt ready to explode. A man came in with rich plumage around his head and not much else covering his thin body. The local doctor, Bodie presumed. After a lot of posturing, poking and chanting Bodie was left in blissful peace. He hadn't long closed his eyes than he was awakened with a frothing bowl of something he was meant to drink. Having no choice, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before knocking it back. It wasn't quite as disgusting as he thought and he was left to go back to sleep. The next thing he was aware of was movement. He cranked open one eye and saw that he was being lifted out of the hut. The sudden sunlight pieced his eyes. In his brief sight he thought he was being carried by white men but he couldn't be sure. But his being placed in the back of a truck confirmed this to be true. It took a while to get the engine started again. Bodie yelled in his head that the carburettor needed cleaning but no-one heard him. They eventually got on the road and Bodie added to his mass of bruises as he slid hither and thither on the floor, hitting every pothole that the Congo had to offer. He didn't remember arriving at the hospital and it was nearly a week before he regained full consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

"You had us worried for a while," said a nun

Bodie thought he was going mad. After a few strangled utterances, the sister gave Bodie a glass of water. "Where am I?" he managed to ask.

"Unhura," she said. He thought he detected an Irish accent.

"A nunnery?" Why in God's name - pardon the pun - should he be sent there - wherever this Un… place was?

The sister laughed - a beautiful sound - and explained that he was in a hospital that was run by both religious women as well as 'civilians'. Over time Bodie gradually learned quite a bit about the place - where and how it was run - but they learned very little from their reticent patient. Eventually Bodie recovered his strength. Matron - who was also Mother Superior - was surprised that, having escaped jail, this mercenary was reluctant to return to England (and she had no doubt that had been his occupation, from the festering wounds on his body and his ranting delirium). The sisters were pleased that he had turned his back on his former life and was willing to help out here. And so his runs to and from the airport had begun. It was perilous work, with long hours on the road, but Bodie enjoyed danger; it gave him an edge and a thrill.

But Clair's attempted suicide had shocked Bodie out of his apathy. He realised how much time had passed and how much he was slipping into the routine world he abhorred. Too many people rested on his shoulders. How had he allowed that to happen? Clair's action had shown him what reliance on other people meant - disaster. He agreed to stay on for another few months while they found a replacement, then he headed south. He promised to keep Mother Superior informed and the last she heard was that he was in Cape Town. He said that he had found a good billet there. But matron knew him better. He was a drifter and he would leave broken hearts there too. She was sure of it.

Mother Superior was right as usual. Bodie had charmed his way south and charmed his way into the heart of an older woman. That she ran several clubs and bars added to her fascination. He cooked for her, ran errands for her and entertained her in ways that even he was surprised at. They talked, they laughed. His world was full. But Bodie had a restless nature and 'Madame' had a wandering eye. They each, unknown to the other, took lovers. The Cape, like all cities, towns and villages the world over, was a rumour mill. It wasn't long before Bodie was found out. Unfortunately he hadn't access to the same grapevines. After a blazing row, he was thrown out. It was only some time afterwards that he learnt from smirking acquaintances that he too had been duped. Too late to go back now and settle the score.


	5. Chapter 5

Sailors were in town, as they always were, from all over the world. They were looking to spend money and looking for trouble. Bodie largely kept out of their way. He could find his own trouble easy enough. He was nursing a beer in a bar far enough from the docks to be comfortable when a man sat down at his table. Bodie looked across and saw that the man - in British naval uniform - could have sat at any number of vacant tables. Had the Navy caught up with him? He'd gone AWOL some years ago. Surely they had enough to do without scouring the world for absent ratings. Alternatively, this man could be looking for a certain type of company. He watched warily.

"You're William Bodie I believe."

"Believe what you like." Bodie made to get up.

"Not so fast, young man. Hear me out. I've got a message to pass on and a proposition to make - and, no, not that kind of proposition. Neither of us are that kind of man."

Bodie lowered his bottom back on the chair cautiously. The officer didn't refer to Bodie's distant past record but did say that 'a certain military branch back in UK' were interested in seeing what he was made of. They'd heard of his escapades in 'a certain other country' - the man's evasiveness was making Bodie irritable - and that he'd been of great help and took exceptional risks to help keep the supply line running at a remote hospital. Bodie waited for comments about Clair's attempted suicide, but it didn't come.

"The military's got its own recruiting sergeants, why should they send a messenger boy half way round the world to find a bum like me?"

The officer smiled, and didn't seem offended. "It would be in your best interests if you left here, Bodie. A certain lady you have recently been seen with is still mighty angry at you - and she has very powerful friends. To put it bluntly - you have none."

"She was …"

"What she was and who she was doing it with is no concern of anyones - let alone a foreigner in a foreign land. Be sensible for once and get the hell out of here - while you still can."

"Where and why do you come in?"

"As you said - I'm just the messenger. I don't ask stupid questions - or even intelligent ones. I keep my mouth shut and obey orders. I suggest you do the same. Report at these offices" the officer slipped Bodie a business card, "at 07:00 tomorrow morning."

"Where am I going?"

"Home and to a legal and legit job - and be bloody grateful when you get there."

For once, Bodie followed orders - but more out of curiosity than contrition. He was met at Southampton Docks by a man buried deep in the armed forces. He was tasked into turning this ex-merc cum everything into something more useful to society, to his country and to himself. It would be a few years later, when Bodie had been brought to heel (or as much as anyone was able), that a certain Major of a 'certain organisation' got to hear of him and liked what he heard.


End file.
